


(toy) story from the borderlands

by stellarfluid



Category: Borderlands (Video Games), Toy Story (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Tales from the Borderlands AU, im writing this for myself ok, its super niche and self indulgent i dont care abt y'all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-18 15:56:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18702787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarfluid/pseuds/stellarfluid
Summary: In a place far away, there is a planet called Pandora. And what a dangerous planet Pandora is; a wasteland overrun with terrible monsters and murderous bandits and thieves -- one of the only planets in existence that could kill you within moments of arrival, despite having a breathable atmosphere!However, there is one redeeming quality to Pandora: the Vault. The Vault is a thing of myth and legend --- a hidden treasure trove filled with wealth and glory and power beyond the imagination. Many have died trying to find the Vault, including some of the most fearsome men ever to set foot on Pandoran soil.But maybe, a mismatched band of adventures -- named Woody and Jessie and their friends Buzz and Bo -- can go against all odds and find the Vault themselves.But, in order to find out, you have to listen to two sides of the same tale.(No prior knowledge of Tales From the Borderlands needed!)





	1. prologue: do you want to hear a story?

**Author's Note:**

> IM BACK ON MY BULLSHIT WITH DUMB AUS THAT ONLY I CARE ABOUT im just doing this for fun man. read if you want! if you like it feel free to leave feedback i'd like that! but im really just doing this for me :^) 
> 
> im using a really weird mix of characters for this. idk, im just trying to do what i think would be fun/would fit the best. also im changing the plot just to keep as many of the characters alive as i can because, spoiler alert, i would have to kill rex, hamm and mr potatohead otherwise and..... yeah no thanks. this is just for fun! some of the character choices are so fucking dumb though like i know and i dont care
> 
> there r some characters that r staying the same though because i cant think of ANYONE who would fit AT ALL so. sorry about that LOL
> 
> unbeata'd cuz i do not have anyone to beta for me.
> 
> also wheezy is narrating if that isnt clear, only because i couldnt think of anyone else sagjldgas
> 
> anyway hey! if youre here, i hope you enjoy!

Why, hello! Would you like to hear a story?

I know what you're thinking. What interesting story could an old, sick, coughing and wheezing man tell you? 

How about a story filled with action and adventure, with immense fortune and unbelievable peril? Interested now, are you? Haha- _ wheeze--- _ well, have I got a story for you!

Pandora: the planet we call our home. But you know, this is not a planet of peace and love. They say it's a wasteland, and that its dangerous, and that only a fool would search for something of value here. 

But do not be fooled by what Pandora appears to be! There is a legend --- a very popular legend --- the legend of the Vault. Imagine this: advanced alien technology, infinite wealth, fame, power---  _ wheeze --- _ you get the picture.

So, as you can imagine, there are people who come to Pandora to search for the Vault. Some call them fools, yes, but I call them  _ Vault Hunters. _

A long time ago, there was a powerful corporation called Hyperion that was trying to find the Vault and take dominion over Pandora, led by the infamous  _ Lotso.  _ Now, this Lotso may have  _ seemed  _ friendly, but he was far from it. He would stop at  _ nothing _ to reach the Vault, and he killed  _ hundreds _ in his thirst for power---  _ cough, wheeze--- _

He never quite made it, though. He died trying to claim Pandora as his own.

History's attention is fickle, my friends. It will remember those pirates like Lotso, but will forget the adventures who would risk it all for less ---  _ wheeze _ \--- less… obvious rewards. 

Please, sit back my friends, and let me tell you the story of a lifetime!

…A story that remembers both sides of the tale. 


	2. part one, chapter one: a promotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our story begins with a promotion. ...Kind of.

The borderlands of Pandora: a desert wasteland. It seems deserted --- no signs of intelligent life, just a worn down billboard with a human skeleton dangling from it.

But if one were to look closer into the dust, they would see someone out in there. A man, one who seems to be looking for something --- or someone. And if one were to listen, they could hear the man as they call out:

“Jessie! Jessie, are you out here?! Jessie, come on, we can work this out!”

His boots kick up dust as he walks, his right arm metal and glinting in the sun as he holds it up to shade his eyes (unfortunately, he lost his hat a long time ago). Then, he hears footsteps behind him and he turns around and---

“Jessie?” he asks. The person before him doesn't really look like Jessie, but… well. He can't really see them. They're wearing a heavy full-body suit and a gas mask. “Jessie, is that you? Is there some sort of radiation leak I don't know ab---”

Before he can finish, this masked stranger hits him hard with the butt of their rifle, knocking him out cold.

The man's name is Woody. He's a company man.

He's our hero, too.

* * *

When Woody comes to, he’s tied up. And, the person who hit him is dragging him through the sand by his feet.

Great.

“You’re not Jessie, are you?” he has to ask, just making sure. When there is no reply, he scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Okay, so you’re not Jessie. Who are you then? Where are we going?”

“I ask the questions,” the Stranger, who is _definitely not Jessie,_ states, their voice deep, grainy and distorted through the mask.

“Oohh-kay then,” Woody replies, “you mind asking _yourself_ where you’re taking me?”

The Stranger drops Woody’s feet and walks to his side before kicking him hard below the ribs.

“Ow! Hey! What was that for?!” Woody shouts, curling in on himself a bit.

“Tell me about the Gortys Project,” the Stranger says in reply. Woody scoffs again.

“The Gortys Project? Is _that_ what this is about? Listen --- Gortys is bad business. I would stay far away from that if I were yo---oooooooou…” he trails off, dragging out the vowel as he sees the Stranger pull out a gun, cock it, and points it at his chest.

“Okay!” Woody says, panicked and a bit exasperated. “Okayokayokay, all right, I get it, I’ll tell you about Gortys! Just---” He groans. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” the Stranger states bluntly as the bed down to pick up Woody’s feet again.

“Just…” Woody begins, “where do you start when you’re getting _dragged through the desert,_ and…?”

“From the beginning,” the Stranger says.

“I… okay,” Woody says. “Right. The beginning.”

 

* * *

It all started with a promotion.

Woody had spent his entire career up at Hyperion --- which is usually where the bad guys are from. Maybe Woody _isn't_ our hero.

But the former CEO of Hyperion, Lotso? He was the baddest guy of all.

Almost everyone at Hyperion wanted to be Lotso, or at least be like him. After all, no one had _ever_ been that close to reaching the Vault.

Which, in all honesty, led to a company full of assholes.

After Lotso died, it somehow got even worse. Those who worked at Hyperion after his death just thought that maybe, _just maybe,_ if you could be like Lotso, you could become greater than him, and take the Vault for yourself.

Woody wasn’t quite sure if that’s what he really wanted to do. In fact, that wasn't really the reason he was going to accept this promotion at all. Hyperion was a very cut-throat company --- you either excelled or got trampled on, and quite possibly even killed --- and it was more of a matter of respect. Woody honestly just wanted to be respected.

Naturally, his difference in mentality made it a bit difficult to fit in. However, with hard work and the help of a couple of good friends, Woody was well on his way to get a promotion that he thought would change his life --- scratch that, _their_ lives --- for the better.

He was, admittedly, very distracted and _very_ nervous as he walked towards Henderson, his supervisor’s, office. Luckily for him, though, Buzz came with him for both moral support, and to attempt to lighten the mood.

“What's the first thing you're going to buy?” he asked, smiling, eyes bright with humor. “I know how much money Henderson makes --- I do his payroll.”

Buzz Lightyear was Woody's best friend. He was also very good with money and technology.

“If you're getting even a fraction of what he owns,” Buzz continued, “you'll still have quite a lot of money. Like… a _lot.”_

Woody genuinely thought about the question, but really only because it was an excuse to get his mind off the stress. Really, he didn't care about buying things too much, and he knew Buzz didn't either.

“Probably lunch for the three of us,” Woody said honestly. “Slink would like that.”

“Yeah, and you could _treat us.”_

Woody rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

As they approached the door, though, he stopped smiling. _God,_ he was so nervous.

Of course, Buzz noticed.

“Woody,” Buzz said as they came to a stop in front of the door. “I know you're stressed out. But you worked really hard to get here and you _made it._ You deserve this. Don't ever think that you don't.”

That made Woody smile again. “Well,” he said, “I definitely couldn't have done it without you and Slink. _We_ made it. We're in this together, right? If I'm moving up, we're all moving up, I'll make sure of it.”

Buzz smiled too. “I appreciate that,” Buzz said, before lowering his voice and adding, “There aren't very many people around here willing to do that.”

“Yeah, well,” Woody said, matching his volume, “maybe soon enough, we'll be running this place.”

“Oh,” Buzz said with a laugh, “we will be.”

Woody took a deep breath. Okay, he thought, it was time, this was it, it was happening, here he went.

Buzz had to pick fun one more time, though.

“Hey, let's see that Hyperion face,” he grinned.

“Oh, my god,” Woody said, stopping right in front of the door, “ _no.”_

“Aw, come on, we gotta make sure you look _condescending_ enough!”

“Buzz---!” Woody almost raised his voice in frustration, but then he couldn't help but to laugh. “God,” he said, and he was smiling.

“Alright, alright, go get ‘em,” Buzz finished, waving Woody away towards the door.

Woody was still smiling as he entered the office. The smile fell away as soon as the door closed behind him.

Something was wrong. He could feel it in his gut.

There was someone sitting in the big office chair at the desk, but the chair was facing backward and covered the person's entire body, so Woody couldn't see them. They said absolutely nothing to him when he came in.

“Mr.… Henderson?” Woody asked, trying very hard not to fidget with his hands.

“Just take a seat, Woody,” the person in the seat said, “I-I-I'll be _just_ a minute, okay, just a minute.”

That was _not_ Henderson. Why wasn't it Henderson?

“No,” the man who was not Henderson said, sounding incredibly annoyed and frustrated, “I wasn't talking to you. YES, I'm talking to you now."

Woody began to apprehensively approach the desk.

“Yeah, but I don't WANT IT IN RED, I WANT IT IN BLACK,” the man said, almost whining. It was annoying. **“** Because BLACK IS BETTER--- look, look, don't concern yourself with ‘why’, okay, concern yourself with ‘how’. A-a-and send it over when it's ready, okay? Greeeat, thanks.”

Woody, to his own horror and disdain, knew exactly who the person was before he even turned around.

 _Al._ Woody _despised_ Al. He was one of those Hyperion assholes who was ready to trample anyone on his way to the top, and had crossed Woody and his friends already too many times. You could call him Woody's Hyperion nemesis.

“Company car, didn't even have to ask, why aren't you sitting yet?” Al said in a rush, quickly flipping the holographic screen of his desktop to show off the car he was getting then flipping it back.

Woody did not sit down. He was too busy gaping in terror.

“You look surprised to see me, Woody!” Al said, grinning maniacally. “And I'm sure you're not happy to see me, either.” He waved nonchalantly. “This all came together quick, you probably just weren't in the loop--!”

“Why are you here?” Woody asked. “Where is Henderson?”

Al was not happy to be interrupted. “Hen-der-son,” he said, in an irritating tone, “ _stepped out._ You're going to be reporting” --- he put his feet up on the desk--- “to me now. And I want you to know, that promotion you worked so hard for? It's still comin’.”

Woody, still almost dazed, finally sat down. “I--- well, that's good,” was all he could manage to say.

“But our little meaning today, Woody, is about _more than that,_ i-it's about your future in this company. Y-you---” he stood up, and walked around the desk so he was standing next to and looking down upon Woody, and leaned against the desk. “You wanna know why I’m in that chair and you're not?” He didn't give Woody the chance to answer. “For the same reason why North is North, why the handsome guy always gets the girl, and why every spaceship in the universe is shaped like a cock. It's _destiny,_ Woody! And men --- real men, like me --- make their own.”

“Uh,” Woody replied, “ohhh-kay?”

“ _You_ ,” Al said before Woody was finished, now walking from his desk to the large glass wall that allowed one to see out into space, “can hold a grudge if you want, I-I-I don't care, you're thoughts are your own, but…”

As he turned back towards Woody, Woody _swore_ he saw something outside the window.

“...bad things come to those who swim against fate,” Al said.

Woody wasn't really paying attention to all anymore --- he was too busy trying figure what the hell that thing floating in space outside the window was. As it came more into view, all the color drained from Woody's face.

“Sometimes,” Al was saying, “men get in the way of other people’s destiny. That’s very bad, Woody, very very bad. You do not want to be that man.”

Henderson’s dead body was floating out in space.

Woody was _horrified,_ staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed and Henderson floated past the window. Al had noticed Woody wasn’t paying attention at that point, and followed his gaze, just to say, “Oh! Perfect timing! Really gets my point across! And, my point, is this.”

He stepped away from the window and back over to the desk. “This promotion,” he said, “will get you out of the way of other people’s destiny and put you on your own path. Great, right?”

He flattened his hands on the desk and leaned towards Woody. “Which is why I’m promoting you to---”

His phone rang. He immediately answered it, letting it on speaker. “Jerry!” he yelled. “ _Why_ isn’t my new car getting digistructed into my office yet?!”

“Al, it’s August,” the person on the other end said.

“Uh, oh!” Al said, his tone immediately changing. “Ah, I-I-I’m sorry, August, but I-I have someone with me, a-at the moment---”

“Are you buying this Vault Key, or what?” August asked, obviously incredibly fed up with Al. “Because I---” Al took him off speaker.

A Vault Key is a very self-explanatory thing: a key to the Vault. While there were more than one Vault Key, they were incredibly rare and incredibly valuable. After all, everyone dreamed of finding the Vault, but how were you supposed to get in without the key?

Woody had no idea how Al had managed to potentially get his hands on one of those things.

“How did this happen so quickly?” he asked is an anxious-sounding whisper. “I thought I had more time! O-of course I’m still interested, I---! Yes, yes, I’m by a computer!” He bent down to the monitor (a touch screen) and began to tap away at it. “Ten million, I know! That’s just--- that’s a lot of money to try and get together on such short notice, I---!” He stood up straight again. “I’m not _trying_ to be _ob-stin-ate!”_ he said, saying that last word in a way that sounded like borderline mocking. “I-I-I-I just need more time!” He walked away from the desk again.

Here’s the thing about Woody --- he was a bit old fashioned. He didn't really care about keeping up with trends or anything, including technological advances, despite working at one of the biggest technology-driven corporations in the galaxy. He was, however, equipped with some real high-quality Hyperion tech (it wasn’t his idea; in all honesty, it was Buzz and Slink who convinced him to get them), including what was called an ECHO eye, something that Buzz referred to as Woody’s “own personal supercomputer” while Slink referred to it as Woody's “magic eye”. The eye came with a little USB port on the side of his forehead and a prosthetic arm that he could digistruct anything he saw with his magic eye onto (all of which were absolutely TERRIFYING to get, may he add) and, well. He had to admit, they were all incredibly useful.

Woody had an idea. He wasn’t quite sure what he was going to DO with said idea, but he was going to do it anyway. Al had gone off to pace by the window, and Woody knew that he wasn’t paying attention to him anymore.

The coolest thing about Woody’s “magic eye” was that he could scan and get information about basically anything. It also gave him access to almost any other piece of technology.

Including Al’s computer.

When Al wasn’t paying attention, Woody quickly scanned his computer and saved all the information about the Vault Key. He really had no idea what to do with it, but he thought it would be good information to have.

“WHY are you trying to _screw me on this?”_ Al was asking. “Oh--- fine, fine! Just--- just wait there! If it’s going to be ten million dollars, I’ll need an hour or two. Well then stay there! It’s a tourist shop, you could b-buy something, I don’t know! Okay, bye bye.” He hung up the phone, then swore before approaching Woody again. He sighed. “Uh… what were we talking about?” he asked. “Before we were so rudely interrupted?”

“Uh,” Woody replied, “promotion.”

“Oh! Right, your, uh, promotion.” He sat on the desk. “Henderson was an idiot,” he said. “He didn’t know his place. He needed lesson number one: humility.”

Woody furrowed his brow. He had no idea where this was going.

“But you, Woody, I respect you,” Al continued. “Which is why I’m going to make you… Assistant… Vice… _Janitor.”_

What.

“Excuse me?” Woody asked.

“You heard me.”

“But--- you--- _can’t---”_

“I’m the boss now, Woody. I can and I did. Have fun with your new job, now! Report to sewage scow twenty-three effective immediately.”

Woody opened his mouth to argue, but then changed his mind and said this instead: “You can’t humiliate me like this. I quit.”

“Oh, but be careful! The only way to quit is the way Henderson did.”

Woody was done with this. He got up and left the office. “I’ll call you when I need my trash emptied!” Al yelled after him, nearly being cut off from the door closing.

Buzz had been outside the door the whole time. He had heard everything.

“What the hell was that?” he asked. “He can’t do that to you!”

“He just did,” Woody replied.

 


End file.
